Chapter 62: An Unexpected Delight

The Flying Dragon Sabre Hall was located north of the city, its main gate wide open so that the shouts and cries from within rang out for all passersby to hear.

A group of half-grown children watched from afar, their eyes brimming with unconcealed longing. It wasn't just that people loved the clatter of sword and spear; to enter and learn here, then emerge, meant half a lifetime would be secured. Whether escorting caravans or guarding the homes of the wealthy, at the very least, one would never go hungry or cold again.

But tuition at the Flying Dragon Sabre Hall was exorbitant, beyond the reach of ordinary families. Not to mention, martial practice required a vast amount of nourishing food to build up one’s vital energy; without it, even after a year or two of training, slow progress was the best one could hope for. Worse yet, many were plagued by illness or died from bodily depletion.

Within the martial hall's compound, several courtyards deep, the outermost was filled with novice disciples. At present, none wielded sabres, but were honing their fists. Fists before blades—such was the rule of the Flying Dragon Sabre Hall. Only deeper inside did the disciples practice with weapons.

Gu Changqing and Li Youling entered through the gate, immediately drawing the attention of the disciples practicing their forms and cultivating their vital energy.

Seated nearby was a tall, robust young man—an inner disciple, who would occasionally instruct the outer disciples in fistwork to supplement his expenses. The moment he saw the newcomers, his heart pounded wildly. The tall young man in white radiated a terrifying aura, an oppressive menace that seemed to fill the air.

"Sirs... may I ask..." The young man from the Flying Dragon Sabre Hall forced himself forward and asked, voice somewhat shaky.

"Call out your master!" Gu Changqing grinned.

That smile only made the young man feel an even more menacing presence, and his heart grew more anxious. "May I ask, sir, your purpose in coming?"

"Have your master demonstrate his finest skill for me," Gu Changqing replied with a booming laugh.

At these words, the faces of those from the Flying Dragon Sabre Hall turned ashen, even uglier than before. This haughty attitude was treating them like performers, not warriors, and showed complete disregard for the Flying Dragon Sabre Hall.

The young man's face flushed with shame and anger, but after a moment’s hesitation, he dared not act rashly. Gu Changqing's aura was simply too fearsome. He cupped his hands respectfully, his tone tinged with barely restrained fury. "Sir, please wait a moment. I shall summon my master at once." With that, he turned and hurried into the inner courtyard.

Soon, a commotion erupted within. An elder’s voice barked commands, quieting the others. Shortly after, a white-haired old man appeared, leading several followers out in haste. Upon seeing Gu Changqing, he gave him a quick, appraising look and immediately felt a chill run through him. Stepping forward swiftly, he bowed deeply and said, "Might I ask which immortal master has graced us with his presence?"

Gu Changqing laughed heartily. "You’re quite shrewd! To have survived to such an age is no accident!"

These words sent a ripple of shock through the disciples of the Flying Dragon Sabre Hall, though none dared make a sound.

"I am Ji, the master of this hall," the old man said with even greater deference, bowing deeply again. "Please, immortal master, do come inside to speak."

In a county town such as this, martial halls like the Flying Dragon Sabre Hall wielded tremendous influence. Their disciples often became bodyguards, private security for the wealthy, constables, or members of local factions, establishing deep roots in the area. As the master of such a hall, his status was naturally high. Yet in the face of Gu Changqing, he dared not put on any airs.

Had it been another cultivator, he might have tried to probe their identity. But the murderous aura rolling off this man was so overwhelming that he dared not so much as test him; a single misstep, he feared, might bring immediate slaughter.

Gu Changqing entered the rear courtyard and sat down with casual ease, while Li Youling stood obediently at his side. When tea was brought, Gu Changqing took a sip, found it inferior to fruit juice, and set it aside without interest.

"Do you know where the local cultivators are?" he asked offhandedly.

The master of Flying Dragon Sabre Hall was surprised—a cultivator himself, yet asking after other cultivators? After a brief hesitation, he answered, "Immortal master, outside the city on Mount Niushou stands the Erniu Temple, said to be a branch of the Qingyun Immortal Sect."

A "branch," he explained, was a school set up to recruit promising disciples, nurturing them through a transformation of marrow and blood, before sending the best to the main Qingyun Daoist Sect every few years.

Gu Changqing narrowed his eyes—Qingyun Daoist Sect again. The one he killed before, that simpering lackey, was from Qingyun Daoist Sect; the Yu family had sent members there for generations.

"How many cultivators are at that temple? How strong are they?" Gu Changqing pressed.

"That I truly do not know," the hall master replied with a wry smile.

"Do you really not know, or simply don't want to say?" Gu Changqing narrowed his eyes, smiling coldly.

The hall master’s eyelid twitched violently, but he could only grit his teeth and say, "How could a martial artist like myself, whose vitality is already in decline, know the affairs of immortals?"

Gu Changqing considered this, then nodded slightly. "Fair enough."

The hall master had just begun to relax when Gu Changqing’s expression darkened, a violent, murderous aura erupting from him. "Are you lying to me?"

The master felt as if he were facing a savage beast, sweat pouring down his back. "Please, immortal master, do not be angry! I truly do not know. I only know that the Erniu Temple has three real cultivators, all of them immortals. As for their strength, I truly do not know…"

"Just joking with you!" Gu Changqing laughed, crossing his legs. "Now, show me your best skill!"

The master breathed a little easier and cupped his hands in salute. Had anyone else asked to see the Flying Dragon Sabre’s techniques, he would have been furious. Now, he only wished to send this young man away as quickly as possible.

He performed the Flying Dragon Sabre form, then explained its key points.

"No need for the explanations," Gu Changqing interrupted. He found the Flying Dragon Sabre less impressive than the Yu family’s swordsmanship; compared to the strike from Yu Xuanzheng that day, it was worlds apart.

"Show me your footwork and movement techniques," he said after watching for a bit, quickly losing interest. Though the master was somewhat stronger than himself, it wasn’t worth learning. "Of all the martial halls in town, whose movement techniques are best?"

"That would be the Triple Swallow Fist!" the master replied. "It’s famed for agility and speed—one of the most renowned styles in Tongren. The Giant Mountain School also emphasizes momentum and lightness, and is better than our Flying Dragon Sabre in that regard."

"Then how did your hall become the most famous?" Gu Changqing asked in surprise.

"If you visit those other two halls, you’ll know. Only the Flying Dragon Sabre can be learned to some degree by ordinary folk through hard work. That’s why we’re the most famous locally," the master replied with a bitter smile.

"Now that’s interesting," Gu Changqing remarked, rising to leave. The master hurried to escort him out.

Half an hour later, Gu Changqing was sitting in the rear courtyard of the Triple Swallow Fist Hall. In the front yard, over a dozen men lay sprawled, evidence that the Triple Swallow Fist Hall lacked the tact of the Flying Dragon Sabre Hall.

"Come, show me your finest skills," Gu Changqing said, tossing a silver ingot in his hand.

The master of Triple Swallow Fist was a thin man who then performed a set of boxing techniques—nimble and unpredictable, his movements darting and weaving with a swiftness like a swallow in flight. For anyone facing this style, if they were the least bit slow, it would feel as though they were beset by a flock of swallows, hence the name.

After watching for a while, Gu Changqing frowned. "Why does it seem so feminine?"

The master smiled wryly and saluted. "To tell the truth, immortal master, the founder of the Triple Swallow Fist was indeed a woman."

"Damn!" Gu Changqing felt a wave of bad luck. He didn’t mind that a woman created the Triple Swallow Fist, but it irked him that the style itself was so feminine—he couldn’t bear the thought of adopting it.

Moreover, it was completely at odds with the ferocity of his own Eight Desolations Fist.

Li Youling, on the other hand, was clearly intrigued. She tugged at Gu Changqing’s sleeve and whispered, "Young master, may I learn it?"

The Triple Swallow Fist was indeed better suited for women.

"Teach her, and make me a copy of your manual," Gu Changqing said, waving dismissively. It was fine for Li Youling to learn; that way, she’d have some means to defend herself when he wasn’t around. Besides, he could study the movement technique himself.

With two halls visited, only the Giant Mountain School remained. Judging by its name, it specialized in heavy, forceful techniques. However, the Flying Dragon Sabre’s master had said that the Giant Mountain School’s style emphasized momentum and lightness, which piqued Gu Changqing’s interest.

That afternoon, Gu Changqing and Li Youling called at the Giant Mountain School. Upon entering, they found that not only were the techniques forceful, but every man and woman present was pear-shaped, each weighing at least three hundred pounds.

One look at these hulking figures and Gu Changqing knew this was not a style ordinary folk could master. As the Flying Dragon Sabre master had said, it was precisely because the Flying Dragon Sabre could be learned by anyone through diligent practice that it had become the most famous.

But seeing the Giant Mountain School’s disciples, Gu Changqing understood why their master had described the style as emphasizing momentum and lightness. Each disciple weighed over three hundred pounds, yet their movements showed no heaviness at all.

Gu Changqing thought this style might actually suit him.

Before he could speak, a giant man—two meters tall, with a waist just as wide and a face full of jowls—hurried up to greet him.

"Giant Mountain School’s Wen Liangong welcomes the immortal master!"

"So well-informed? Your name is Wen Liangong?" Gu Changqing gave him a curious look.

"Immortal master visited the Flying Dragon Sabre and the Triple Swallow Fist, so I knew you would come here next. I have been waiting," Wen replied with a beaming, jowly smile that nearly swallowed his eyes.

"My name truly is Wen Liangong—gentleness, humility, frugality, and deference," he said, referencing the classical virtues.

Gu Changqing mused inwardly—what a name for such a man; all the good names had gone to the dogs.

"So, do you know why I’m here?" Gu Changqing asked as he walked inside.

"I beg immortal master to enlighten me," Wen replied, still impeccably courteous.

"Show me your school’s signature technique," Gu Changqing said bluntly.

At this, Wen’s smile became even warmer. "That’s no trouble at all. But I wonder, would immortal master care to meet another cultivator?"

"Oh? What do you mean?" Gu Changqing turned, intrigued by the unexpected surprise.

"To be frank, our Giant Mountain School is backed by a true immortal, who delights in befriending fellow practitioners. If he knew you were here, he would surely come to pay his respects."

So there was indeed a cultivator behind the Giant Mountain School, though he was not someone just anyone could meet. Wen had quickly guessed that Gu Changqing, with his murderous aura and his storming of three martial halls in succession to seize their secrets, was likely a solitary, perhaps even a demonic cultivator. Thus, he was eager to introduce him to his own patron.

(End of this chapter)